


Your Chief of Staff

by riddlesinthedark (MrsSaxon)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Ed having an epiphany, Ed realizes, Ed regretting, M/M, Post-3x11, Wouldn't it be nice if we could have one of THOSE some time soon?, origami penguin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsSaxon/pseuds/riddlesinthedark
Summary: Success isn't quite as sweet as Ed imagined it. And the truth doesn't hurt as much as he feared.





	

“To the fall of Penguin!”

The champagne splashed, but Ed had eyes only for the television set where Oswald’s latest interview was airing. He was on very thin ice now; the whistleblower campaign was working like a charm.

“Ed, come on, celebrate, this is all thanks to you!” Babs called him over gleefully.

Ed looked up to perfunctorily nod and raise his glass before his attention was absorbed in the television again. Oswald snapped at every question, his political cool slipping under the barrage of charges. Almost all of them were true, to make matters worse. Ed knew all his little secrets, he knew what strings to pull to make him fall apart; he’d helped tie them up, after all.

“What of your chief of staff?”

Ed froze, posture tightening.

Oswald just stared at the reporter, silent for seconds on end. “Mr. Nygma, is on… um… a temporary leave of absence due to his health,” Oswald recovered shakily, “we hope to have him back very soon.” His lips widened but the set of his teeth didn’t show a real smile.

“That doesn’t sit with-”

“I’m sorry, no more questions on Mr. Nygma, please. He’s watching this at home and I wouldn’t want to upset him.”

Ed swallowed, exhaling for the first time since the questions turned to him. He turned away from the screen, blocking it out with his shoulders, and stepped towards the party.

“Everything going as planned?” Tabitha leaned her head around Butch, pleased enough to be civil with him today.

“No problems. He’s in over his head,” Ed reassured her, pulling the smile that seemed to be acceptable to everyone here. Tabitha nodded assent and Ed made a break for the door.

“Hey, Nygma,” Butch jumped in before Ed could escape. Ed turned back to him reluctantly, trying not to grimace too obviously.

“I haven’t forgiven you and I still think you’re a punk-ass kid who needs a good lesson in respect… but nice job on Penguin. You’ve come through for us, so… I’ll forego beating you into the ground,” Butch smiled.

Ed’s lips quirked. “A compliment from you, Butch, is almost above an insult,” he said, bowing his head and walking out to the sounds of “Did he just insult me for being nice to him…?”

Ed broke for the stairs, thundering up them as fast as his long legs could carry him until he reached the safety of his room. He really wasn’t in the mood for a party and was glad to be out of the festive atmosphere. Something about the frivolity just… didn’t sit right with him.

Ed leaned back against his door, loosening his tie, then completely undoing it and tossing it on his desk. He opened a button on his collar and sighed. This was supposed to be his moment of triumph, his victory. He’d done it, he’d won, Oswald was finished. Why then did he have the distinct symptoms of indigestion?

His eyes traveled to the little paper penguin he’d left on his desk. He’d made dozens in Arkham, he remembered the pattern by heart. His room just felt more home-like with the memento. He walked over and picked up the little fellow.

“I miss you,” he told it, “more than I expected to. Some days it’s… almost unbearable without you. No one understands.” He heaved a sigh. It was such a relief to say it out loud, to acknowledge those moments when he felt so alone and yet knew, if Oswald were here, somehow he wouldn’t anymore.

Ed walked around his room, carrying the little paper penguin with him. He flipped on his own TV at the foot of his bed, tuning it to the news station covering the mayor’s disgrace. Oswald’s harried, cringing face appeared on screen as he waved off the photographers, ducking into the sanctity of his office. Ed winced, watching.

“A mounting effort for a recall… new evidence come to light on Mayor Cobblepot’s criminal dealings which may not entirely be in the past… suspicion thrown on election night itself… is Oswald Out?”

Ed shut off the TV again, swallowing. No, this is what he wanted. He wanted Oswald in tatters, his name and reputation destroyed, his very life ripped from him… well, not his life. Never his life.

_Is Oswald Out?_

The phrase stuck in Ed’s mind. The… permanence of it, the abrupt reality of his success and what it would mean.

“I don’t… want you _gone_ ,” Ed muttered out loud, “That’s not what I wanted. I know I said I wanted you destroyed, but this is… these past few months without you. I don’t think I want more of that.”

Ed picked up the little penguin again and hugged it close. “Where would I be… without you?” Ed murmured down at its blank, beaky face.

He threw the penguin back down on the bed. “But you murdered Isabella! That’s… unforgivable,” Ed ground his teeth, leaping into action and pacing the room in wide strides.

“She was my everything and you took her from me. I can’t just overlook that. But I miss you so much at the same time, and I just…!” Ed threw his hands in his hair, pulling at his scalp, “Why, why couldn’t you have just _told_ me how you felt? Why didn’t you…”

All of his motion came to a sudden stop. That day… the day he met Isabella, the dinner… the thing Oswald wouldn’t say. “You… were going to. You tried… oh.” Ed reached for his chair and collapsed into it. His mouth felt parched, his chest felt hot and twisted, like some mild form of cardiac arrest, although he was perfectly aware of his heart continuing to beat, even harder than usual.

“If I hadn’t… oh dear,” Ed breathed, “oh dear, oh dear.” Several seconds passed as he gulped huge breaths. He swallowed, “By then it was too late… oh, Oswald.” Ed bit his lip, the sharpness of the pain clarifying his whirling thoughts.

“This… hurts, this hurts so much,” Ed hugged himself close on his chair, resting his chin miserably on his knee, “Because you still murdered her, but I can’t bear being away from you. When this is all over, I’ll have no reason to be near you again, you’ll be nothing, you’ll have nothing… except me.” Ed swallowed hard, “I can’t… I can’t abandon you. You’re my best friend. And I love you.”

It came like a light switching on. The reason he couldn’t kill Oswald. The reason he wanted to forgive him even though he killed Isabella. The reason he’d done all this. He loved him. The pain in his chest eased, a heavy weight he didn’t know he was carrying lifted off in an instant.

Ed sat there, dazed smile on his face. He loved Oswald Cobblepot. It was plain as the sun. He looked at the little penguin on his bed, flopped over on its side. He reached out and righted it. “I love you, Oswald. I won’t let you go.” Ed told the little penguin tenderly, still smiling. That made everything so much easier.  


End file.
